By Darkness
by Spark and Fire
Summary: In her past life she was nothing at all special. Now, in her new life one kill out of many would change her life forever. Lead her to her new family, and lead her right into his arms. Rated M for violence and death. Eventual CiceroxOC
1. The Beginning

**A/N- So this is the first chapter of my first (and probably only) Skyrim fanfic. This chapter is primarily and introduction and a set-up. I promise there will be Cicero time in the next chapter. I know I'm breezing through things, but until I get into the real meat of the story I don't feel a need to go into much detail. Any reviews are welcomed. I would love encouragement, I'm open to constructive criticism (honestly, I welcome any suggestions on my writing style, making the story better, ect.), and also welcome questions. Please don't flame me, if you don't like it please tell me why. I feel like my grammar and spelling are at the very least decent. If you see any errors please let me know. **

**PS- I know I probably put in more commas than necessary. I don't know why, I just do.**

Aesta awoke slowly, still unwilling to let go of the pleasant fog of sleep. She felt it was better to visit the Aretino household at night, and because of that had been past midnight when she finally retired to her room in Candlehearth Hall. The conversation with Aventus Aretino had certainly piqued her interest. The boy wanted the leader of the Honorhall Orphanage killed. While she certainly would have considered killing a cruel woman as a favor to the unfortunate boy, the promise of gold is what truly motivated her. She had been scrounging for far too long.

She eventually managed to pull herself from the furs of her bed, washed quickly in a small basin of clean water, and pulled on her old leather armor. The armor was ill-fitting; tight around her bust and hips, while loose through her legs and waist. It was in serious need of repair, but she did not have the gold or knowledge to repair or modify it. Her only weapon was an iron dagger, basic and common. She cared for her dagger, cleaning and sharpening it regularly, but it was still a simple iron dagger that lost its edge far too quickly for her liking. She had started from scratch a few years, the daughter of a drunk who had chased her mother away. After her father passed she had been left penniless with few options. She worked at the Bannered Mare for a few years as a barmaid during the day, returning to her father's old shack outside the safety of the walls at night. She was always exhausted from long days serving the local drunks, repairing the deteriorating home, and trying to raise enough crops so she could afford to eat. However, she was living. She had finally started to save up enough money to make some serious repairs to her homestead, and had even managed to buy a new set of basic clothes that actually came close to fitting. However, things changed one night when she was walking home alone towards her small shack.

Aesta shook herself out of her walk down memory lane; she avoided thinking about what had happened to her that night 6 months ago. It had been a turning point for her, but she still wasn't sure if she truly accepted the change that had occurred in her that night. It was only a few days after that moonlit night that she decided to leave Whiterun, to abandon her meager way of life and to abandon her old shack.

Aesta shouldered her pack, tied her coin purse to her belt, and walked out into Windhelm. She hated this city. She had no love for the stormcloaks, and even though as an Imperial she was tolerated she hated to see how poorly the mer and beast races were treated. She was glad to be able to leave for a while, even if she was traveling to Riften, a city notorious for its crime levels.

Aesta stretched as she stepped off the carriage. Her back was stiff from long days on that damned wooden bench and longer nights on the ground. She stayed in her leather armor throughout the journey, not trusting the animals in the wilds of Skyrim or her traveling companions. She had traveled with Alfarinn, the carriage driver, before but there were other men traveling at the same time and she certainly didn't trust them. The sun was close to setting when they had finally arrived at Riften, so Aesta didn't waste any time heading for the city gates. As she approached a guard stopped her and demanded that she pay a visitor's tax. She cocked her head and smirked at him,

"And what, exactly, is this tax for? Please tell me I at least get a sweetroll for my money, or perhaps some of that famous Black-Briar mead, hm?" The guard simply stared at her, obviously not amused by her questioning.

"It's for the privilege of entering the city, what do you think?" Aesta shook her head as she stepped closer to the guard and lowered her voice,

"This is, quite frankly, the worst shake-down I've ever seen. If you let me pass, I'll consider not actually reporting this to your betters." The guard growled a little, but moved toward the gate to unlock it. As she slipped past him he grabbed her arm, drew her close, and whispered to her,

"Not a word, _Imperial_" She nodded him, smirked again, then wrenched her arm away from his grip. She proceeded into the city and immediately saw, over a short bridge, a large building with a sign identifying it as "The Bee and Barb". Judging from the occasional drunk stumbling out of the place she assumed it was the local tavern and inn.

After renting a room and having a quick dinner she casually wandered the city until she finally found the orphanage. She glanced around, saw that nobody was nearby watching, and slipped inside. Once inside the entryway with the door closed she waited to hear any movement. Hearing nothing, she cracked open the first door she came to and saw a young woman fast asleep in a bed. The room was small, and looked like it doubled as storage. She doubted this was the headmistress, seeing the age of the woman and the small room. She crept through the main area of the orphanage, successfully passing the sleeping children. The next door she opened made her stop. There were 3 sets of shackles, and straw covering the floor. She could smell blood and excrement. She instantly knew what this was, and knew no child deserved this. If there was any true innocence in the word, it resided in children. Luckily all the children were safe in their beds, sound asleep. She just hoped the young woman sleeping in the other room would be the one to discover the body.

She picked the lock on the last door, and slipped inside. She found the old woman and was by her bedside in an instant. She pulled her dagger out before putting it to the woman's throat and covering her mouth to prevent her from alerting anyone. Aesta grinned down at her, leaned in, and whispered to her.

"Grelod _the Kind, _right?" The old woman nodded weakly all while trembling in fear. Aesta pressed the dagger against Grelod's skin a little harder,

"I want you to know why this happened. You have betrayed the trust of children, you have abused the defenseless. This is not a robbery, and even though I know it will bring you little peace the children will not be harmed. You will no longer be able to hurt them, to torture them. This is your end." With that, she brought her dagger across the cruel old woman's throat, spilling her blood and ending her life. Aesta closed her eyes and sighed as the warm blood spilled over her hand. She had done her job, and the taking of a life was as sweet as ever.

She carefully cleaned her hands on Grelod's bed furs, though she had always found it near impossible to get blood from underneath her fingernails. Not that it mattered much, the people of Skyrim were almost never clean and in the darkness of the inn it would appear to be dirt. She left the orphanage as quietly as she entered it and returned to her room at the Bee and Barb.

She slept well that night, satisfied with her decision and her kill. She would start the journey to Windhelm the next day.

**A/N- I decided to end it there, considering things are really going to get moving in the next chapter and that felt like a natural stopping point. I promise there will be Cicero time in the next chapter. Please leave me a review; I'm looking for feedback since I'm not entirely sure how far I'll take this.**

**Thank you for reading, and please leave me a review.**


	2. A Kill and a Jester

**A/N- I want to say that the show of support for this has been amazing to me. I know the first chapter wasn't very long, and I'm aiming to make this one a bit longer. They always feel longer to me than they actually end up being. One of my wonderful reviewers asked about how I pronounce Aesta. To me it's A-S-tah, A and S being what you call the letter, not the sound it makes. But that's how I pronounce it, feel free to pronounce it however you wish. **

**I want to dedicate this chapter to both of my reviewers, Nalledia and LilieDove. You guys are wonderful, and oh so helpful. To anyone else, you should check out their stories, they're wonderful and engaging and amazing.**

**Disclaimer (because I managed to forget last chapter)- I don't own anything you might recognize from The Elder Scrolls. Because I'm not that awesome. **

**o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

Aesta groaned as she slowly woke up. As soon as her senses returned to her she knew she wasn't where she had fallen asleep. It had been just another night on the road on her way back to Windhelm from Riften, and the bed she was laying on felt nothing like the cold hard ground she had fallen asleep on. She desperately tried to blink sleep from her eyes as she struggled to sit up. Through her blurred vision she could see a small room and a figure sitting atop a wardrobe, of all things. She had been captured. She didn't like being captured. Aesta reached for her dagger, but neither it nor the sheath it normally rested in was there. In fact, feeling her hip only panicked her more. She wasn't wearing her armor; instead she was clothed in a simple blue dress. She bit back a growl; she hadn't worn a dress in over a year and felt far too vulnerable to be comfortable in one now. The figure finally spoke to her,

"I see you're finally awake. That's good, for a moment I thought I'd given you more sedative than was safe. Which would have been a shame, really." That velvet voice was most certainly female which relaxed Aesta, but only a little. She was still angry, and she was still very much in danger, though she could tell if this person wanted her dead she wouldn't still be drawing breath. She leaned forward and put her head in her hands.

"Just because I'm awake is no indication you didn't give me too much. Now what do you want?" She all but snapped at this woman.

"Tsk Tsk Tsk. You're unharmed, you're in no immediate danger, and I even placed you in a nice warm bed. Is this really how you want to act towards me?" Aesta glanced up at her again. Even if she was right, Aesta still wasn't happy about it.

"You've stripped me of my gear, leaving it gods knows where, drugged me, kidnapped me, and won't even tell me your name." She finally lifted her head to get a good look at the woman, who was wearing tight-fitting black and red armor, a hood and a cowl. "I admit it could be worse, but it could most certainly be better." The mysterious woman chuckled at her in a way that still came across as sinister somehow,

"You never asked for my name. I am Astrid, and that's all you need to know about me for the moment. I think you will be happier in a moment, dear Aesta. You armor and pack are in this wardrobe, safe and sound. Besides, I know of the work you did on poor old Grelod the Kind. In and out silently, nobody the wiser until her body was discovered the next morning. News of a kill that good tends to get around."

Aesta bared her teeth at Astrid. Her headache was subsiding, but very slowly. She wanted to get things moving, but was afraid of where they would lead. She didn't even bother asking how this "Astrid" knew her name. If she knew about the kill, she most likely knew all sorts of things about Aesta.

"She deserved it; you don't know what she did to those children." Astrid simply nodded and continued,

"I'm admiring, not criticizing. However, that kill was not yours to make. Oh no, the Aretino boy was calling to the Dark Brotherhood, which you are not. You owe us a kill. This one will be rather simple. Look behind you, there are three individuals who are now at your mercy. Someone wants one of them dead, and it's your job to find out which one, and to dish out the punishment. Once you complete your kill, you're free to go. I think you'll enjoy this." Aesta turned around to see if she was telling the truth, and she was. Behind her, against the far wall of the hut, were three figures. Each one of the figures was on their knees, bound, and blindfolded. Aesta stood from her place on the bed and addressed Astrid,

"Can I at least have my dagger? Or something? Can't very well expect me to kill them with my mind, can you?"

"Of course, and you'll have the rest of your… equipment back before you leave." With that Astrid tossed Aesta her iron dagger. Of course Aesta didn't catch it properly and it clattered to the floor. She simply sighed and bent over to pick it up, which caused her headache to flare back up. She stalked over to the victims, sat on her knees in front of the first one, and started questioning.

The first one was a Nord, male, a sell-sword. He told her his name was Fultheim the Fearless, though considering she could smell the urine on him she knew he was anything but fearless. He was trembling in fright. Aesta decided she didn't much want to kill him, and scooted over so she was directly in front of the middle one.

The woman, another Nord from what Aesta could tell, promptly told her that it was "None of her damn business". Her tone was angry and mocking. She was arrogant, and Aesta immediately disliked her. She hated arrogance and loved being able to take people down a notch. She supposed that death was the ultimate way of doing that. The last prisoner was more interesting.

A male Khajiit was the last potential victim. She shuffled closer to him as he talked,

"Vasha, at your service. Obtainer of goods, taker of lives, and defiler of daughters." At his last comment she rushed forward and gripped his throat, her dagger forgotten for the moment. She leaned in close to his ear as she hissed,

"Defiler of daughters? Willingly, or no?" He all but purred his response,

"I have no need to take what is not willingly given in the bedroom, nor would I want to. It ruins the… moment."

Aesta was satisfied with that answer. He could easily be lying; she was never particularly good at perceiving when people were being dishonest, but he had been open about his shady history so she chose to trust him on this. She released him and stood up. She had made her decision; it would be the arrogant female Nord that would die by her hand tonight. She stepped around Vasha, leaning down only momentarily to run her fingers through the hair on his tail, he simply flicked it at her and purred. She chuckled as she stopped behind the still un-named woman. She would never know this woman's name, but she was fine with that. She placed one knee on the floor and pressed her front against the woman's back. She wrapped her left arm around the Nord's throat, while the other pressed her dagger against the woman's belly. She whispered in the woman's ear,

"Perhaps you should have been kinder, considering your situation." With that, she plunged her dagger into the woman's stomach, right below her ribcage and aimed it up towards her heart. She knew it wouldn't be an instant kill, she knew it would be painful and noisy, but she liked that. She had to keep Grelod silent, but Astrid never insisted on this being a quiet kill. Blood flowed over her dagger, over her hand, down the woman's dress and onto the floor as the Nord screamed. The joy of the kill, the satisfaction of taking another's life made her forget all about her headache. Aesta twisted the dagger before pulling it free as the arrogant woman gasped her last breath and sagged against her.

Aesta shoved the body forward and stood up; she walked over to the end table for a rag to clean her hand and her blade as she talked,

"Satisfied, Astrid? A death for a death."

"Oh yes, someone surely would have wanted her dead. She was quite noisy, wasn't she?" Aesta shrugged while she finished cleaning the blood off of herself, she was quite sure if she didn't choose correctly Astrid would not let the mark go free. That is, if she was going to let any of them go free in the first place.

"It was a pleasure. And this has been really fun and all, but if you don't mind I believe you promised me my gear back and a way out of this place? I assume you'll keep your word."

"Of course, darling, but before I let someone with such… enthusiasm leave, I have a proposition that might interest you. I'm looking to expand my little family, and I think you might be what we're looking for." Aesta paused for a moment, considering the proposition. Two short years ago she wouldn't have even considered joining a guild of assassins. Living near Whiterun she always thought if she decided to be a warrior she'd be a companion. However, after certain life events she still hadn't entirely come to terms with and her newly discovered blood lust it sounded like a perfect fit. She knew little of the Dark Brotherhood, but if they were willing to accept her and pay her to do what she loved, then she was in.

"You know, I would love to."

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Aesta was on her way back from Windhelm, her coinpurse a little lighter. She had wanted to stop by to let Aventus know that Grelod was dead and it was safe for him to return to HonorHall. He had offered her a silver plate as payment that he claimed was a family heirloom, but she couldn't bear to take it from him. She instead gave him what coin she could spare so he could buy food and safe transport to Riften. On her way out of Windhelm she made sure to stop and talk to the carriage driver, Alfarinn. She wanted to make sure he would help look after Aventus on his journey south. After being reassured that no harm would come to the child, she continued East on foot. She didn't want to spend the last of her gold on a carriage, and she had never been able to afford a horse, so she trudged east. It would have been slightly quicker to go south and travel through the mountains south of Whiterun but the mountain passes were not easy to traverse and usually held more danger than the plains. Even after a year on the road she still didn't feel confident she could handle the more rugged route, so she decided to go as far east as possible before heading south.

She was finally on the road south, heading towards Whiterun when she saw what seemed to be a cart ahead of her. It didn't appear to be moving and it was only midday, surely they weren't already stopped to camp. When she finally reached the cart she discovered why it was stopped. There was an odd man, dressed in black and red jester's clothing, staring dejectedly at a broken wheel and muttering to himself. Occasionally he would flail his arms around and his voice would rise enough for Aesta to catch the words "Mother", "failed you" and "bad man". She observed him for a few moments before shrugging to herself and walking forwards and gently saying,

"Excuse me sir, are you alright?" The jester turned from the wheel and looked at her before exclaiming,

"Alright? Alright?! Poor Cicero is most certainly not alright! Cicero was only trying to move his dear, sweet Mother when the dammed wagon wheel broke. It broke! And mean Vantus Loreius won't fix it. Says he doesn't want to get involved, he does." While he was speaking he gestured wildly with his hands and even stomped a foot when he mentioned Vantus's name. Aesta tilted her head as she inquired,

"Your mother? I don't see…" she trailed off, this man was obviously a few apples short of a bushel and she didn't want to upset him further.

"She's quite dead you see, oh yes, quite dead. Cicero was only trying to move her to her new" He paused, before breaking out into a rather demented grin, "resting place." He was silent for a moment before exclaiming once again,

"But the wheel! The wheel… and the farmer won't fix it. What is poor Cicero to do?" Aesta studied him for a moment. Jesters always seemed harmless enough, but this… Cicero had a dangerous feeling about him. It might have been that his costume was black and red, rather than brighter colors jesters tended to prefer, or it might have been the distinct feel of insanity. She chewed on her lower lip as she thought. He seemed to be an Imperial. He certainly didn't tower over her like the male Nords did, though he was still slightly taller than her. He had a dagger attached to his belt, which on closer inspection she realized was an ebony dagger. She had seen and admired one at WarMaiden's when she bought her iron dagger, very sharp and deadly, but also very expensive.

"Do you want me to try to convince Vantus to help you? I know very little about fixing wagons, but maybe I could get him to?" Cicero immediately perked up at the idea,

"Oh yes, if kind lady could make Vantus help Cicero he would be very grateful, very grateful indeed!" He bounced around and did a little dance which made Aesta giggle.

"Wait right here, I'll be back." She assured him before she headed up the hill to the small farm. Outside was a man, alone, leaning against a small but well-cared for house. Aesta walked up to him and gave him a smile. She started to speak but was quickly interrupted,

"If this is about that gods-damned jester I'm not helping." She stopped for a moment before inquiring,

"Why? He's simply trying to transport his dead mother, why won't you help him?" Vantus Loreius let out an angry sigh before responding,

"Did you see how big that crate was? Nobody has a coffin that big. And have you listened to him? He's insane, he's well and truly insane. Who knows what he's actually transporting, he's most likely transporting Skooma and has been sampling too much." Aesta narrowed her eyes at the farmer. Skooma? She had seen people on Skooma, and it most certainly didn't do that to a person. She took a step closer to the Imperial before her,

"If he is, which I'm sure he isn't, do you really want that stuck right beside your farm? If he's discovered who knows what you'll be implicated in." Vantus truly looked like he was going to acquiesce for a moment, but he shook himself and denied her again instead. Aesta slowly crept forward. She had enough. This farmer wouldn't help a man who clearly needed help, and she wasn't about to let it go. She had a mission now, and she would see it through. In a moment she had her dagger drawn and at his neck, a hand over his mouth, and had pressed herself against him so he couldn't easily flee.

"This could have gone easily for you. It still can, but you need to fix the poor jester's wheel. He needs help, you have the ability to help him, if you help him I promise there won't be bloodshed, but if you don't…" She pressed the dagger against his throat a little harder, "I can't promise anything. If not me, then perhaps he can teach you some manners. Do you understand?" She eased the pressure on him a little so he could move his head. He nodded frantically at her, his eyes wide and full of fear. Aesta didn't care if he feared her or the mad jester more, as long as he would do the job. As she released him she said,

"Good, glad we have that sorted out. I trust you'll be along soon to make the repairs?" The farmer nodded and moved away from his house, sliding around her. Apparently he didn't want pinned to his house again. She gave him before sheathing her blade and returning to the jester.

"He'll be down soon to fix your wheel. Though I'd keep an eye on him to make sure he did a good job of it, took a bit of convincing to get him to agree." Cicero grinned like the maniac he was and did the one thing she didn't expect, he hugged her. He gripped her so tight she couldn't breathe for a moment, but he released her as quickly as he had embraced her. He took a step back, still grinning.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! Please take this, Cicero is in your debt." He attempted to hand her a rather heavy coinpurse, which she politely refused,

"No, no, it was my pleasure. It was no trouble at all, you keep it." He held the purse in his hands for a moment, as in contemplating it before shoving it back into hers,

"No, Cicero insists." He leaned towards her a little and grinned, his eyes dark "I have plenty and can always get more." He watched her for a moment before moving back again, a smile back in place,

"Shiny, clinky coin!" Aesta sighed and accepted that he was going to pay her. Maybe it was karma for not accepting payment from Aretino. In the past she had always been motivated by coin, but the prospect of joining the Dark Brotherhood and being paid well for her work made her a bit freer with her gold. She almost didn't want to leave this jester, he made her smile and giggle. It was nice to finally feel a bit freer. Granted her time with him had been brief, but even for that short period her thoughts weren't constantly dark. However, she could almost feel the darkness in him and that intrigued her. However, she had a new family to get to. She'd have to part ways with this man.

"I must be going, are you going to be alright?"

"Alright? Alright?!" he said, echoing his words from earlier. Only this time he said them with glee, "Sweet lady has helped poor Cicero, and he shall wait for the farmer to fix his wheel. But might Cicero know sweet lady's name?" Aesta gave him a gentle smile and nodded,

"My name is Aesta. I hope we meet again, Cicero. Good luck on your travels." Cicero smiled back as she turned her back to him and continued on her road south. She hoped that whatever god he prayed to would ease his journey.

o0o0o0o0o0o

**A/N- Whew. So there's chapter 2. I had more words in this one by the end of the abandoned shack scene than I did the entire last chapter. However, I said there would be Cicero. So there was Cicero. I had him be a little more excitable than he normally is here because I figured the stress and panic of the situation would put more strain on his sanity. **

**As for Vasha's moment, I always kind of liked him. I know in some languages the way he says "defiler of daughters" comes off a bit more "rapey" but I decided to go in a different direction with him. Mostly for fun, and because I can.**

**I'm not entirely happy with this, but I'm still proud of it. Please leave a review; apparently I feed off of them. :D**


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